


The One Where Mark Needs Attention

by orphan_account



Category: letsplay, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Markiplier - Freeform, markiplier imagines, markiplier preferences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:03:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Baby?” Mark’s voice echoes through your spacious house, a bellowing call that causes you to sigh deeply. You needed to get a large portion of your Master’s thesis done today – the deadline for your first draft was in two days – and you couldn’t deal with Mark’s pleas of desperation. “Where are you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Mark Needs Attention

“Baby?” Mark’s voice echoes through your spacious house, a bellowing call that causes you to sigh deeply. You needed to get a large portion of your Master’s thesis done today – the deadline for your first draft was in two days – and you couldn’t deal with Mark’s pleas of desperation. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the office,” you shout back to him, furiously typing the last of the sentence you’re on so you don’t forget your thought.

Mark steps into your shared office space, his hair bouncing as he wiggles in the doorway. “Are you done yet?” he whines, reaching his hands out to you.

“Not even close,” you mutter, quickly saving all of the work you’ve done so far. Ten pages typed and it feels like you’ve done nothing. “I want to get another ten pages done before I call it quits.”

“Ten pages?!” he exasperates, and you swear he’s about to melt into the floor like a two-year-old who was told he couldn’t get the candy he wanted.

“Yes,” you sigh. “Ten pages. Are you going to be okay?”

Mark moans as he zombie-walks his way to your desk. He plops down in front of you, next to your desktop. You look at him and smile apologetically. He throws his head back and groans, his Adam’s apple vibrating with the sound. When you return to typing, he makes his way behind you so that you’re both facing the screen. He throws his arms around your shoulders and breathes you in, the full weight of him on you causing more annoyance than anything. You normally loved when he wanted to be touchy-feely, but today, you needed to work.

“Babe,” you try to escape his embrace, but every time you move, he grabs you tighter. “Mark,” you laugh, turning your face so your lips are against his jaw. “You need to get off of me.”

“But I’m bored,” he complains. “I wanna do something!”

“So do something,” you say as you begin typing again. You know that what you’ve written thus far is a complete pile of shit, but at least you’ve gotten words down on paper. You’ve made some progress, even though that progress is marginal.

“I wanna do something with you,” he kisses your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. His hair flops onto your face as he moves to kiss different spots of your neck. He begins to make chomping noises as he bites your exposed skin. “Nom, nom nom,” he growls as he chews his way down your shoulders and arms. You try to ignore his antics, but then he moves to bite your boob, and you yelp.

“You don’t have any more recording to do? Have you finished your latest series?” you ask, hoping your suggestions will keep him at bay. You couldn’t afford to get distracted – not when you were on a roll.

“I finished yesterday,” he explains, his voice muffled by your shoulder. “I edited it all today. I’m ahead by five days.”

“Why don’t you work out?”

“No,” he sighs.

“Start on your next series?”

“No,” his weight becomes heavier on you as nearly his entire torso folds over the back of your chair. You move forward, his arms still wrapped around your shoulders. “Come back,” he moans, grasping you tighter.

“Babe,” you struggle to breathe as he crushes you further down into your chair, your neck contorted to accommodate his massive head against your shoulder. “You gotta let me work.”

“But you smell so good,” he sniffs your hair and kisses your head. “And I love you.”

“I love you too,” you snicker. He places his chin on top of your head, causing you to grunt in frustration. “I do. I really do. But I haven’t had time to work on this thesis at all. It’s due on Monday, and tomorrow we have people coming over. I won’t have time to do it if I don’t do it now.”

“Okay,” Mark frowns. “How about you sit on my lap while you type? That way we can be together while you work.”

You look at him dubiously. “Seriously?”

“Yeah!” he squeaks, his eyes brightening.

“I’m not going to sit on your lap while I work,” you say. “You’ll try and do something. I honestly just need some time alone to get this done. I promise it won’t take that much longer.”

“You said that when you started and you’ve been working on this thing for five hours. It’s only 1 o’clock! If you work on it for another five hours, you won’t be done until six. That’s an entire day spent on one thing.”

“You sound like a baby.”

He looks you in the eyes and feigns shock. Or maybe it’s not actually feigned. Maybe he is hurt by the accusation, but at this point, you can’t worry about his feelings. He has never been as whiny as he is in this moment.

“But I’m handsome,” he says. “And my arms are nice. And my voice has been described as perfect. And even though I might be shorter than the national average for men of my age, I love you. Don’t those things count for anything?” He brings out the puppy-dog eyes and frowns in a way that makes his entire face look depressed.

Jesus Christ, you think. He got me again. Those goddamn eyes and that goddamn voice. And he’s right, his arms are really nice.

“Okay,” you grumble, attempting to get out of your chair. “You have to let me get up if I’m going to sit on your lap.”


End file.
